Wondering About a Cheaper Choice
Wondering About a Cheaper Choice
The final Saturday of April, I toss a garbage bag of last summer’s pots and trays in my trunk and drive to Nick’s Greenhouse. He tells me he can reuse them. He has very few spring annuals but says he will receive hundreds more next week. I am primed for planting my outdoor pots today.
A few blocks away, Theisen’s abounds with options, large pots with flowers towering above them and tiny starter four-packs with emerging plants just four inches tall.
I admire the huge plants, but without thinking deeply about it, choose instead the tiny starters. I browse back and forth, choosing small alyssum, celosia and marigolds for fillers. For the tall thrillers, I select two six-inch cannas, not yet blooming. Back home four more thrillers wait: the dahlia bulbs I purchased last week. Also at home several dozen wandering dude slips root in vases, waiting to become spillers draping downward.
At home I don a sun hat and gardening gloves, pry out last year’s roots, add new soil, dig and plant in my plant.
At the front of the house, I bury two dahlia bulbs and surround them with red celosia and white alyssum to match the eventual blooms. Two other pots welcome pink celosia and yellow marigolds to match the other two dahlia species.
In backyard I surround the still-green cannas with blooms to complement their promised orange and peach. I edge all six pots with wandering dude, each with only one or two leaves.
As I water, I revel in the sun and breeze. Then I relax, remove my gloves, and take a break to view my work. For decades my husband Marlo and I have called this traditional pause our “admiration stance.”
The sun warms my arms, the breeze caresses my face and I enjoy the satisfaction of a completed job. However the plantings do not give rise to admiration. The dahlia bulbs are invisible. I view mostly dirt!
I wonder why I chose such tiny plants. Why did I make the cheaper choice? Yes, I love bargains, but I can afford the expensive flowers. After all, plants are a once-per-year expense.
I look toward the coming summer and remember my astonishment last year after a vacation. The flowers had nearly doubled in size!
Ah, yes. Now I remember. I choose bulbs and small plants because they provide the pleasure of watching them grow and then bloom with beauty.
Gazing at pots dominated by dirt, I remember Marlo’s quip during our first spring of empty-nester gardening: “It is great to have something around that is growing up instead of growing old!”
I see the plantings with new eyes. They promise an entire series of admiration stances.
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Carol Van Klompenburg is a writer and speaker living in Pella Iowa. Her email is carolvk13@gmail.com. Her new website is now live at www.carolvanklompenburg.com.